


The Fragile

by ExpressAndAdmirable



Series: The Heroes of Light [43]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Final Fantasy I
Genre: Angst, Dreams and Nightmares, Drow, F/F, Self-Reflection, Tiefling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 15:55:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13251570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExpressAndAdmirable/pseuds/ExpressAndAdmirable
Summary: Lux has another one of her nightmares and Sol does the best she can.





	The Fragile

**Author's Note:**

> Response to the “ ♥: Reacting to the other one crying about something ” prompt from Morgan's player, taken from [this prompt list](https://expressandadmirable.tumblr.com/post/164709227549/nonsexual-acts-of-intimacy-select-from-the).

She was dreaming again. They were never good dreams.

Haluei'en had begun to consider it a blessing her people did not dream. Even as her reverie had grown deeper and closer to proper sleep, she was never entirely adrift from the world around her and could always feel when the Tiefling was in distress. Quaking and murmuring, trapped inside herself, Aviva’s body lived the worst of her dreams as if they were real. In some ways, she suspected they were. It was that thought that worried her most.

Propping herself on one arm, Haluei’en watched the sleeping figure beside her. Aviva was curled into the foetal position, her back to the Drow, hands balled into fists against her chest. She had shaken herself loose from the blanket, leaving it pooled between them on the bedroll. Despite the warmth of the night air, she was shivering, her breath shallow and ragged. Tension radiated from her form. Whatever had come to assault her unconscious mind, it was more harrowing than anything Haluei’en had yet seen her experience in the waking world.

It hurt her to see it. Aviva was too young to have a heart so scarred, a soul so weary. Orphan of Goodness, the Elf-King had called her. The Hearth-Mother. Mother of the World. So many names, so many titles, all of them lonely and distant even as she warmed and protected those under her care. But she was not alone. Not anymore. If Haluei’en was sure of one thing, it was that.

Moving to stroke the Tiefling’s violet hair, she froze mid-motion, her hand hovering above the other woman like a startled hare. Aviva was not simply gasping for breath, she realised. She was weeping.

Though she had seen many tears threaten the corners of Aviva’s eyes, she had not seen her openly weep since the day Bornelius died. She could not even begin to imagine what had caused despair so deep; not knowing was almost worse. For a moment her own breath caught in her throat, but she forced herself to release it. She was needed.

Covering them both with the blanket, she lay back down, sliding her hand beneath the Tiefling’s neck and rolling her over as she pulled her into her arms. Instinctively, Aviva curled against her side, burying her face in the hollow of her shoulder and gripping a handful of tunic tightly in her fist. She held her close; knowing she could not wake her, she simply prayed for peace to come quickly. Silently, Aviva wept.

Eventually, the tears slowed and her breathing evened. Her grip on the Drow’s tunic loosened as her body relaxed, no longer wracked with voiceless sobs. The dream had relinquished its hold, and she would sleep without disruption until morning. Sometimes she remembered the dreams; sometimes she discussed them. Haluei’en did not pry, letting her open in her own time. She understood better than anyone the Tiefling’s instinct to say nothing. They were both learning to break their silence.

Haluei’en stared at the tarpaulin above their heads. For once, her mind wandered.

How fragile it was, their reality. How beautifully, achingly, terrifyingly delicate. Their greatest source of strength, balanced on a razor’s edge. Yesterday they were safe, and they were lucky. Today they were safe, and they were lucky. Tomorrow they might not be lucky, their safety shattered and ripped away by one errant spell or poisoned blade. Despite the spectre of mortality waiting around every corner – or perhaps, indeed, because of it – they had found solace in one another. They had allowed themselves to reach out, to feel, to intertwine so completely that separating now would leave a gaping, jagged, screaming wound. They were at the mercy of fate, and even the strongest of loves cannot stop death.

It would be better for Aviva to die first, if they were fated to die. It was not something her vows would allow to happen, but if it did, it would be a mercy. Aviva had already suffered so much loss in her short life, she did not deserve to experience another. She felt too much too deeply, her heart keening even as she tried to hide it, and all mortal creatures have their limit. Haluei’en was old, a warrior, no stranger to comrades falling in battle. She could weather that storm. She could turn her heart to stone, bury it in the earth, offer it up as a sacrifice to her god of strength and vengeance. She could do what needed to be done. She could survive.

Couldn’t she?

**Author's Note:**

> Title song by Nine Inch Nails.
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr at @expressandadmirable for a proper table of contents for the Heroes campaign, commissioned character art, text-based roleplay snippets and more!


End file.
